A Reliable Witness?
Joe Jordan
In the June issue, a painting that runs with Norman C. Delaney’s article, “The Firing Here Became Continual,” shows the CSS Alabama flying the Confederate First National Flag from the peak and mizzen gaff. The text describes a white or mostly white flag, which would have been the Confederate Second National. The Second National would have been flying from Alabama on that day.
The article is based on the testimony of a deserter. While the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Navies in the War of the Rebellion would be the best source of historical information, articles in the New York Herald and the words of a disgruntled sailor are suspect.
Your previous article by Robert F. Browning on what Rear Admiral David Farragut may or may not have said at Mobile Bay (“Damn the Torpedoes,” August 2014) is a good example of unreliable accounts being taken as history.
Dr. Delaney responds:
Englishman Henry Higgins, like most sailors in the Alabama, was strictly a mercenary, on board only because of the assurance by Captain Raphael Semmes of prize money, generous wages, and a daily grog ration. Higgins would have chosen anonymity out of concern for possible repercussions for having violated the British Foreign Enlistment Act. Nevertheless, he and his shipmates fought courageously on the two occasions they were called upon to do so, sinking the USS Hatteras and succumbing to the USS Kearsarge.
I find Higgins’ account highly credible, as much of it is corroborated by other accounts. He obviously realizes the significance of the battle that has just been fought and gives due credit to his fellow shipmates while never highlighting his own role. The Official Records do provide valuable firsthand material but like all records must be used with extreme caution, as some are incomplete and others are exaggerated or contain deliberate falsehoods.
Dr. Browning responds:
Mr. Jordan makes a good point about my article on Farragut’s supposed utterance at the Battle of Mobile Bay. Unless one looks at all the factors and dissects the veracity of the statements, then as historians, we can restate what was an unreliable statement. I tried to dissect the battle and looked at all the quotes attributed to Farragut. Of course, everyone’s position during the conflict determined if they could have even heard what he may have said. Also, the timing of the event was crucial to the veracity of the statements made. My article was not meant to settle the question, rather it ruled many of the quotes unreliable while also bringing in a couple of other plausible explanations. No one will ever know exactly what, if anything, was said, unless more documentation is discovered. I do think the article caused the readers to think about the situational aspect of the battle and the plausibility of the various statements that were made.
Hedgehog Rounds Gone Awry
Charles H. Wright
I enjoyed reading Commander Joseph E. Lyons’ comments in the June issue (“In Contact”) pertaining to Norman Friedman’s February “Armaments & Innovations” column, about depth charging (“Crude but Effective in Large Doses”), particularly the firing of the Hedgehog “dummy” rounds by a DER [radar picket destroyer escort] at Pearl Harbor. I was a lieutenant (junior grade) at the time and was the weapons officer on board the USS Savage (DER-386) tied up immediately forward of the firing DER. I was the command duty officer that day and was in the wardroom at the time and recall hearing a popping noise. The quarterdeck watch called and requested I come aft as a firing incident had taken place. I did so, and when I was informed what had occurred I had the watch officer call the chief gunner’s mate to report to the Mk 15 Hedgehog mount. We had not been hit, but the watch officer said it was interesting watching the rounds clear the radar mast and land on the Bravo Pier.
The chief and I pulled one of our dummy “decorative” Hedgehogs, correctly tail-notched and painted black with a white head, and found they were live rounds. The chief got a working party together, removed the projectiles, and properly stored them. About that time, the arrival bells announcing senior officers arriving began going off in rapid succession. I quickly headed to the quarterdeck, finding two admirals and staff. One of them asked what had happened. I replied, “It wasn’t us,” and, dramatically pointing aft said, “It was them!” Off they went.
The captain came aboard later, and I explained the situation. His comment was that the ammo depot had some explaining to do. All dummy and practice rounds of all ammunition types were rigorously inspected thereafter. There was an investigation, but I do not remember its results.
As I recall, no one was injured, but I believe two cars were hit and the snack shack on the pier took a direct hit, demolishing it. Incidentally, we not only had a Mk 15 Hedgehog mount, but carried a rack of six depth charges as well.
Inaccurate Indy
Rear Admiral Sam Cox, U.S. Navy (Retired), Director, Naval History and Heritage Command
As usual, I greatly enjoyed my most recent Naval History magazine (June issue). In the Indianapolis article (“The Tragic Indy’s Enduring Fascination”) I was intrigued by the illustrations depicting the covers of other publications’ coverage from the past. While I certainly would not expect Stag magazine to be a paragon of historical accuracy, the ship on its cover is not the Indianapolis but rather a pretty accurate rendering of the post–World War II Salem or another Des Moines–class heavy cruiser being blown up. It makes one wonder why the artist was so meticulous in his detail of the wrong ship. Might be an interesting story there too. Anyway, keep up the great work!
A Different Take on Halsey
Terrance J. McKearney
A reconsideration of and perhaps a slightly different take on E. B. Potter’s view of Admiral William F. Halsey Jr. vs. Admiral Raymond A. Spruance (“Halsey and Spruance: A Study in Contrasts,” April) might reveal lessons about not only each admiral’s leadership skills, but how their very different abilities have significance in today’s command environment.
Despite Halsey’s reputation as “the sailor’s admiral” the crowning achievement of his career, his service as the Solomons area commander in 1942–43, was notable not only for how he motivated the Marines in the trenches and the sailors in the turrets, but how he restructured and organized a multiservice, thrown-together force that was essentially dysfunctional when he assumed command. Halsey’s predecessor, Vice Admiral R. L. Gormley, had failed to integrate the Army Air Forces, Navy, and Marine Corps forces into a single coordinated effort. He refused to establish a combined headquarters, with the leadership of each element reporting to him. Halsey recognized the need to integrate the forces assigned to the area into a synchronized effort to march up the Solomons chain toward Rabaul, and he assembled a unique intraservice staff at Noumea and led that staff in the development of an integrated campaign plan. In today’s parlance, he created a joint task force and oversaw it with a command style that was unique to the U.S. way of war up to that time.
Conversely, Halsey was a flawed commander in the tactical handling of naval forces. Potter’s discussion on Halsey’s shortcomings at Leyte Gulf doesn’t fully acknowledge how lost he was in the management of that battle. His disastrous encounters with two typhoons at the end of the war are indicative of a commander without the focus on detail that managing naval forces at sea demands.
It’s ironic that Halsey is largely remembered as a “fighting admiral” when his real genius seems to have been in organizing and directing. He might have been the real strategic thinker between himself and Spruance, at least insofar as Halsey had the drive and vision to develop an approach to fighting that we rely on today.
More Kudos for The Big E Author
Richard Slater
In regards to Hill Goodspeed’s fine review of the new edition of Commander Edward Stafford’s classic book The Big E: The Story of the USS Enterprise (“Book Reviews,” June), it is wonderful to see the U.S. Naval Institute provide a suitable platform for this magnificent book.
I first read Stafford’s book when I was a preteen in the early 1960s (about the time I joined the Naval Institute!). When, in the early 1990s, I sought to purchase a copy of Stafford’s book for a friend, I was horrified to learn that The Big E was no longer in print. I am glad to see that The Big E was resurrected in the form of this new book. Hopefully, future generations will learn of the exploits of what was undoubtedly the most famous American warship of World War II.
I have good memories of Commander Stafford, who when I sent a letter to him a few years ago agreed to allow me to send my well-thumbed copy of his book to him to be autographed, which he did. This new edition is a suitable memorial not only to the ship he highlighted but to a fine naval officer as well.
Adventures with DASH
Commander Harold H. Sacks, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Thanks to Commander Benjamin “BJ” Armstrong, my curiosity as to the follow-on uses of DASH [Drone Antisubmarine Helicopter] was satisfied in “DASH, Snoopy, and the Night Panther” (“Armaments and Innovations,” June). I, for one, hated to see the program end. When I took command of a FRAM I destroyer (USS Steinaker DD-863) I was fascinated by the “little birds,” and was told that the previous skipper was afraid of losing one and thus flew them the bare minimum to meet requirements. Realizing that infrequent use was a demotivating influence on the maintenance team, I exercised them as frequently as possible. It was probably hubris that prompted us to declare we would set a new record by maintaining at least one DASH airborne for over a week as we transited from Panama to San Diego en route to a WestPac deployment.
Before departing Norfolk, I personally visited the CICs of each DASH-equipped ship in our division and hosted a session during which control frequencies were exchanged and each DASH officer learned how to take control of a DASH from a sister ship. This was to prove prescient.
On the seventh day of our “Dash-a-thon,” wherein the DASH officer, then Lieutenant (junior grade) C. R. (Chuck) Spencer, and air traffic controller L. T. Cluen spelled each other controlling the airborne DASH, then placing it in “hover” while launching the second DASH prior to landing the first for fueling. Day and night, steady steaming, the effort went flawlessly until the unbelievable happened. The Steinaker came to a frightening complete stop, having lost the electrical load. The airborne DASH went into an automatic hover with about 30 minutes of fuel on board. There was a lot of hand-wringing, but I ordered a flashing-light message sent to the USS Borie (DD-704) requesting her CIC officer to come up on the required frequency. After about 15 minutes of nail-chewing, the Borie successfully took control of our DASH and landed it safely on her already-crowded flight deck—the cause of many free rounds paid for by this chastened skipper at the officers’ club in San Diego. Incidentally, the Steinaker set an endurance record by an Atlantic Fleet destroyer—a feat for which Gyrodyne sent a commendatory plaque.
Mark S. Erickson
I worked on the QH-50 DASH program at Naval Weapons Center China Lake for a year. And it was the most frustrating year of my life! As a platform to tow targets it worked fairly well. But the intense vibration would really mess up the electronics. It was fun to watch while it was flying, but you didn’t want to be anywhere near it during takeoff. The final straw for me was during a test when one of the blades flew off and hit the building where the pilot and I were. The QH-50 was a dog the Navy could never tame.